Waiting
by Smartest Girl In The World
Summary: Waiting. That's all she ever seemed to do. Oneshot. REVISED.


Waiting. That's all she seemed to be doing now. She would sit next to the window, just waiting for him. Waiting for him to take her back at least once more. Waiting for him to come and live with her. Waiting for him to realize that he loved her and that he couldn't stand to not be with her. Because that's how she felt. She felt as if she couldn't live without him by her side.

'He didn't love me,' she thought. 'Or he didn't love me enough.'

For if he did love her, he would be with her right now. He would give up his youth for her. She didn't ask him to, even when he was with her she never asked. She wanted him to choose it for himself. She wanted him to do it because he wanted to live with her, because he would be happy with her, not to do it for the sake of her being happy. She wanted him to love her so much that he would give up his youth so he could be with her. And even if she did want to ask him, she just couldn't. She couldn't ask him to give up his eternal youth. The thing he stood for. The one thing he ever really loved.

'The thing he loved more than me,' she thought bitterly as she looked out the window.

Waiting. That's really all she ever did. As she would lie in bed, she reminisced of Neverland. She would wait for him, as she remembered his face. She remembered the butterflies in her stomach, the wild beating of her heart and most of all, she remembered her first kiss with him.

'That was my first kiss,' she thought wryly.

Her first kiss. She gave him her first kiss wholeheartedly. She gave him her first kiss, something she should have treasured and kept guarded. She had given him her love and her heart and he kept it.

'I was but a child then,' she thought with a sigh. 'Young and innocent. I didn't know any better.'

She _was_ young and innocent then. She was a young girl, just shy of becoming a young lady. Now she was a lady, growing up and waiting for the boy who wouldn't. The boy who wouldn't grow up and who wouldn't come for her like he had promised.

Waiting. She had waiting so long for him to come back. She had a nightly ritual. She would wait by the window for hours before she realized he wouldn't come that night. Tears would escape and she would find herself crying over the boy she loved. She would go to her bed and snuggle under the warm blanket. She would continue crying until she was worn out and fell asleep.

'I will not cry tonight,' she told herself. 'Even if he isn't coming.'

But she knew in her heart that that wouldn't be the case.

Waiting. She had waiting ages for him to return to her. She was already a teenager. She had grown up. She had become what he stood against.

'He's not coming,' she thought.

She willed herself not to cry. But the tears had leaked out and brimmed over. She cried silently over the boy she loved. The boy she thought had loved her back.

'Get a hold of yourself Wendy Moira Angela Darling,' she thought to herself as the thick, hot tears fell from her eyes one by one. 'This is silly. He was never real. It was never real.'

She wiped her tears away. She looked out the window and saw it. The second star to the right and in her heart, she knew that it was real. That he was real. She would always believe it. New tears threatened to fall and she willed herself not to let them. But as she looked back and saw the star again, one single tear fell. She went to her bed and laid herself down. She snuggled under her blanket and thought of him.

'I'll always believe in you, Peter Pan,' she thought before drifting to sleep.

She had a smile on her face as she dreamt of Neverland and of him, Peter Pan.

Waiting. That's what she always did. She waited for him.

Waiting. She never could stop waiting for him. Not even after she had married. When her daughter was asleep, she would sit herself down and wait for him, reminiscing of when she was still a girl.

"Wendy?" a voice called. "I've come to take you back."

She gasped as she looked into the eyes of the boy she had never stopped loving. He looked just as she remembered him.

"Peter," she breathed. She could hardly believe it was true.

"What happened to you, Wendy?" he demanded. He looks angry at her for growing up.

"I grew up, Peter," she says. "It's been twenty years since I last saw you. I'm married now. I have my own daughter now. Her name is Jane."

Peter gaped at her not knowing what to say. Then he broke down crying. He seemed heartbroken and angry at her betrayal. The tears streamed down his face.

Wendy didn't know what to do. She fled the room not knowing what to say to him. When she came back, Jane was gone. She had wept when she found out.

'You took my daughter,' she thought bitterly. 'This is probably what my mother felt like when we were gone.'

She then recalled of her adventures in Neverland and with the boy who would never grow up and wiped away her tears.

'She'll probably fall in love with you too,' she thought wryly. 'And you'll break her heart too.'

Waiting. That's what she did even now. She was waiting for Jane and her beloved Peter to return.

"Mother!" a voice cried.

"Jane," she said relieved.

She hugged her daughter. Jane had a look she so dearly remembered. It was the face she had when she returned from her adventure. It was one of love and admiration and of adventure.

Peter was out the window so she left the nursery so he could talk to Jane. She went to the next room and left the windows open. So he could talk to her again. She could wait for him to finish speaking to Jane. Waiting was all she ever did.

'He'll probably promise to return,' she thought. 'But he won't keep it until it's too late.'

"I'll always believe in you, Peter Pan," Jane's voice rang out clearly.

"Wendy," the familiar boyish voice said.

"Peter," she breathed.

"You're old," he said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"I'm not old," she laughed. "I've just grown up."

Suddenly he takes her hands and takes her out the window. He holds her closely so she won't fall. The feeling that rose in her was of great euphoria. She couldn't believe after all this waiting he was here. Then he places her back inside and lets her go. He gives her a small before flying off.

"I'll always believe in you Peter Pan," she promised.

He turned around and grinned that boyish grin.

Waiting. That's what her daughter would do. She would wait too. They would both share tears that would never leave because of the boy that they both loved hadn't returned.

Waiting. She still waited for him in her old age. Jane had given up on her love for Peter. She still believed in him, but she didn't love him any longer. Jane had moved on. But Wendy hadn't. She still waited for him. She had a granddaughter, but still she waited for the return of the boy she had first loved. The boy she had given her first kiss to.

And he returned. He took Margaret this time. Jane had felt sad and waited. She had waited too, in the next room wanting to see Peter at least one more time.

Margaret returned at last. She could tell that she was just as taken with him as Jane was. He promised to return. Peter eyed Jane before giving her a small smile and leaving them.

"I'll always believe in you, Peter Pan," the two called out together.

She looked out the window waiting for Peter to come once again. And he did come. He still looked as young as he did when she first met him. Her heart yearned to be youthful once again.

"Wendy?" he asked.

"Peter," she breathed.

"Wendy you're old," he said scrunching up his nose.

"That's what happens, Peter," she said with a laugh. "People grow up and get old."

"But you're _really_ old," he said.

"No I'm not," she laughed. "I'm still young at heart."

He hugs her and flies outside holding her steady to keep her from falling. The joy rushes back and she is flushed with excitement. Then he flies back and places her inside. He stares at her with wide eyes before flying off. She gives him a wide smile.

"I'll always believe in you, Peter Pan," she says softly. "And I'll always love you, Peter Pan."

He turns back and faces her as if he heard her. He gives her one of his earnest grins before flying off again.

Waiting. The three of them waited for him with tears. It had become a ritual. She had figured that the cycle would never end as long as her descendants had a daughter. Soon, Jane and Margaret had stopped waiting for him. But she still waited. No matter how many of her descendants fell in love with Peter, she would always be his first. His first kiss and his first love. And nothing could change that. She would always be the one who would hold him in her heart and love him forever.

Waiting. She was always waiting for him. She had died sitting on the chair her last vision of him and her last words before she heaved her last breath were:

"I'll always believe in you, Peter Pan."


End file.
